


alone together

by poetictragedy



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: Barebacking, F/M, First Time, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, Riding, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:58:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetictragedy/pseuds/poetictragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hansel and Gretel are each other's <em>everything</em> -- and that includes being each other's first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	alone together

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any mistakes you find.

They’re twelve when Gretel crawls into Hansel’s bed in the middle of the night, claiming she had nightmares but her brother knows better. She’s shivering cold, her smaller body pressed against his and it makes him warm, despite the chilling winds blowing outside.

She says his name quietly and Hansel can feel heat pooling in his stomach, radiating in all different directions. He folds his hands just above the top of his pants and licks his lips quickly, murmuring, “What?”

“I’m cold,” Gretel says and he can’t help but snort. Of course she’s cold; they  _both are_. “Hold me.”

Hansel sighs and turns over so they’re lying face to face. “Holding you isn’t going to make it better,” he says but wraps both arms around her anyway, pulling her trembling body against his own.

And they fall asleep like that, wrapped up together while the world outside is rocked by winds and snow. Hansel wakes up sometime in the middle of the night, feeling funny and whimpering when Gretel, sensing that her brother is awake, starts to move.

This is something he’s felt before, when he’s alone in his bed in the middle of the night, but now it’s different. Hansel can feel the heat down below, getting worse and worse the longer Gretel fidgets against him, and he clamps his teeth down on his lower lip.

Gretel stops moving and Hansel thanks God for that, not sure how much more friction on his cock (that’s what the older boys and men called in the tavern). He sighs and settles against her again, though he’s hard and in desperate need of getting off.

Before he can move away to relieve himself, Gretel starts moving again and Hansel’s entire body goes rigid. It almost seems that she’s doing it on purpose, like she  _knows_  he’s hard against her, but he knows that can’t be right. Gretel may be the smartest of the two of them but there’s no way she can know more about a boy’s body than Hansel does.

Still, her hips move against his and he can’t help but press back against her, stuffing his fist into his mouth so he keeps quiet. It feels so good, so much better than his own hand, and Hansel knows he isn’t going to last long. His breath comes out harsh and Gretel rolls her hips back one more time which, sure enough, has her brother coming in his pants a moment later.

Hansel pants and gasps and makes muffled noises against his hand, letting his eyes roll back, lashes fluttering. His sister’s movements slow down and soon she stops all together, breathing softly through her nose.

They never talk about that night — ever.

-

When they’re fourteen, Hansel and Gretel are hunting a witch that preys on a small farm town’s cattle. It’s hard work and Hansel gets hurt in the process, taking a spell to the chest that sends him back, hitting a tree. It knocks him out for a while and when he wakes, Gretel is bloody, with her dark brown hair matted against her scalp but she’s smiling and telling him he’s going to be fine.

The town shows their thanks and how grateful they are by putting the twins up in the finest inn in town — which is merely a barn, transformed into something inhabitable for humans.

Hansel is laid down on a bed of hay while Gretel pays the innkeeper, sending him away before shutting the door. She looks tired and older, like she could be eighteen instead of fourteen, and he grabs her hand.

“Sit down,” he says, his voice raspy.

“No.” Gretel wrenches her hand away and lights the candles, setting them strategically around the room before coming back with a basin of water. She takes a cup, dips it in, and holds it out for Hansel. “Drink,” she commands and, never being one to say no to his sister, Hansel obeys.

For the next few hours, Hansel is in and out of consciousness. The last time he slips under, he sees that Gretel is out of her bloodied clothes and in one of his clean, yet slightly larger shirts. She’s wringing her hair out and looks at him, smiling before he goes under once more.

The world is quiet and dark when Hansel awakes finally and Gretel is sitting on the hay-bed beside him, her face pinched with worry. “You’re up,” she points out and Hansel grins, swatting at her. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a witch sent me flying into a tree.”

“Har har,” Gretel murmurs and sighs, pushing Hansel’s bangs away from his eyes, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “How are you — really?”

Hansel sits up and groans, waving her off when she tries to help. “I’m fine, really, now stop worrying before you get lines,” he mumbles, lifting a shaky hand to touch her cheek, then her forehead.

A laugh escapes and Gretel smacks his hand away, though she does so gently before wrapping her hands around one of his. “I killed her,” she murmurs and Hansel hums quietly, nodding before letting his head rest against the wall.

“M’proud,” he says, grinning.

“As you should be!” Gretel beams and drops her brother’s hand before moving to sit on his lap, like she has so many times. Her arms loop around Hansel’s neck, forearms resting on his shoulders.

This wakes Hansel up a little more and he swallows, remembering the time, years ago, when Gretel moved against him, making him come in the dead of the night. His cock starts to harden at the memory and the fact that his sister is sitting on his lap, wearing nothing but one of his shirts.

Gretel smiles and she leans down. Their mouths are so close and he can smell mint on her breath, like she’s been chewing the leaves, and he hums in appreciation. She smells good, like soap and fresh water, and Hansel brings a hand up to touch her cheek lightly.

At the touch, she lets her eyes flutter shut and sucks in a small breath, her fingers winding in his hair, tugging him closer. The first initial brush of lips makes Hansel gasp and Gretel mimics the noise before pressing their mouths together firmly.

It’s their first kiss — at least it’s Hansel’s; he isn’t sure about Gretel, though he has kept a good eye on her — and it’s wonderful. Sure, neither are experienced but the messy kiss with too much tongue and teeth is better than nothing..

When Hansel pulls back, Gretel whines.

“What?” he asks, quirking a brow.

“I wanted to keep going,” she complains.

Hansel laughs and shakes his head, pecking the corner of her mouth, dragging his lips down the curve of her jaw. For fourteen, Gretel’s body is more like a woman’s than a child’s and Hansel has found himself looking at her several times.

With her soft curves and girlish body, Hansel knows that he’s not the only one that’s looked at her. He hates the men that leer, the ones that make comments when they think neither of them are paying attention — but he is and he catches every word. If he weren’t a better person, he’d slit their throats for looking at  _his_  sister that way.

“Will you touch me?” Gretel asks, her voice barely above a whisper, and the softness of her request makes Hansel shudder. He nods his head, though he’s absolutely clueless as to  _how_  he’s supposed to touch her.

With a shaky hand and his heart pounding hard behind his ribs, Hansel touches the side of her neck, dragging his fingers along her pulse. Her skin is so soft, almost too soft, and he breathes in deeply when he feels Gretel swallow.

“No,” she murmurs, taking Hansel’s hand in hers, dragging it down the front of the shirt she’s wearing, stopping between her legs, “ _here_.”

Hansel stiffens and presses his hand against her, surprised to see that she’s not wearing anything underneath the shirt. Of course not; she never does when she sleeps, Hansel knew that.

The first brush of Hansel’s finger against her has Gretel bucking her hips forward, breath hitching in her throat. She closes her eyes and rests their foreheads together, both hands going into his hair once more.

A shaky laugh escapes his throat and Hansel whispers, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Gretel answers, her voice breathless. She makes a mewling noise when her brother’s hand travels further down, one fingertip pressing against her slit.

And, god, she’s so wet that it actually makes Hansel shudder when he feels her against his skin. The skin that’s rough and calloused from overuse of several weapons. 

Gretel is silky and wet and  _warm_ and inviting. She spreads her legs even wider, bringing herself down as Hansel slips his finger inside, going slow and even stopping when she groans sharply.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs and she laughs, her head thrown back, pale neck exposed in the dim candlelight. Gretel tells him not to worry about it, that it always hurts at first, and grinds her hips down. Another noise escapes her throat and Hansel’s cock hardens completely, pressing against her thigh.

The first finger slides in all the way and when Gretel stops making pained noises, Hansel starts to slip it in and out slowly. She gets wetter each time and the feeling is maddening, making Hansel dizzier than he was before.

Gretel starts to ride her hips in a way Hansel has never seen before and he stares at her in the dim light, transfixed. She’s panting and squeezing his shoulders, rolling her hips slowly like she’s done this before.

But before he can ask, Hansel realizes that she hasn’t, not if one finger inside of her hurt, and relief washes over him. A second after realizing that this is the first time anyone — except maybe  _Gretel_  — has done this, Hansel starts thinking about being her first.

“More,” she pants and Hansel swallows hard.

He pulls his finger out and adds a second, biting down on his lip. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“F — fine.” The words are breathless, almost pained, and Hansel’s stomach clenches as he slips both digits inside. Gretel whimpers and keeps her hips still, bringing her head back down, eyes screwed shut. 

“We can wait,” Hansel murmurs, moving his other hand along her thigh, though the movement causes his shoulder to ache. It’s worth it, though, because Gretel shivers and sucks in a breath, feeling his hand brushing along her skin slowly.

It takes several minutes for Gretel to get accustomed to Hansel’s fingers and soon she’s moving her hips again, hissing. “I’m fine,” she says befoe he can open his mouth and she laughs breathlessly. “Do you want to fuck me?”

All the air in Hansel’s lungs seems to rush out at once and he can’t breathe for a few seconds, his brain short circuiting. He inhales deeply and holds it, exhaling a moment later as he whispers, “Yes.”

“Then what are - ah - you waiting for?” Gretel asks and from the tone of her voice, Hansel can tell she’s smirking. He glares at her and pulls his fingers out, grinning when she whines.

“I need these off,” he mumbles and undoes his pants, fingers working clumsily to undo the laces. Gretel helps him, her long fingers moving alongside of his own, and once his pants are unlaced, Hansel pushes them down around his knees.

Once they’re both naked from the waist down, Hansel grabs the base of his cock and strokes up slowly, looking at Gretel expectantly. He doesn’t know how they should do this but knows his body isn’t going to cooperate any other way.

Gretel seems to understand and she lifts herself up, bracing her hands on his shoulders, lip caught between her teeth. She lowers herself then and soon Hansel feels the tip of his cock press against her slit, a shudder rocking his body because she feels amazing already.

“Go slow,” he warns, running his free hand along her hip. He pushes the t-shirt she’s wearing up and slips his fingers up, brushing them along her breasts. Gretel whimpers and sucks in a breath, settling herself down on Hansel’s cock.

And it takes a few torturous minutes but Gretel finally takes the entire length of her brother’s cock. She clenches her thighs against his and drops her head down, pressing it against the side of his neck. If Hansel didn’t know any better, he would swear he can hear her sniffling.

It must hurt, then, if  _Gretel_  is crying and Hansel moves his hands along her back slowly, soothing her the best he can. He lets her sit there for as long as she wants and kisses her cheek gently, whispering soft things to her.

“Hansel,” she sighs and straightens up a little. Her eyes are misty in the light and he lifts a hand, touching her cheek, smiling. “I’m okay.” Gretel smiles and turns, kissing his palm as she cups the back of his hand on one of hers, sighing again.

And the thing is, Hansel really believes her. She’s the strongest of the two, always has been, and when she’s in pain she almost never shows it unless he bothers her about it. So when she says that she’s alright, he knows that she’s telling the truth because Gretel would  _never_  lie to him — especially not about this.

With a nod, Hansel drops his hands back down and wraps his fingers around Gretel’s hips, rolling his own forward. She does the same and starts to bounce a little on his lap, neither of them moving with much finesse or anything; it’s mostly just messy movements but they’re good, so fucking good.

Hansel drops his head back against the wall and groans. The movements are making his entire body ache but he doesn’t let it show, doesn’t let Gretel know that he’s in pain. He just moans and grips her hips tightly, trying to hold off as long as he can.

One of Gretel’s hands settles on Hansel’s chest and her fingertips dig into the fabric of his shirt as she moves her hips. She makes a noise, high pitched and pleasurable, that goes straight through Hansel.

“Fuck,” he curses and slips a hand underneath Gretel’s shirt, cupping one of her breasts in his palm. He squeezes and kneads gently, brushing the pad of his thumb along her nipple. Which seems to feel good because Gretel’s back arches and she gasps sharply.

Hansel bites down on his lip, feeling Gretel tighten around him. She loosens and tightens over and over as she bounces a little harder. He knows he’s getting closer, can feel the familiar pooling of heat low in his stomach, and groans.

“Rub righ — right here.” Gretel grabs his free hand with one her own, fingers shaking against his skin as she moves it down between her legs again. 

“Here?” Confused, Hansel presses two fingertips against the spot where Gretel showed him and she bucks, moaning louder. He’s almost afraid that someone is going to come in and find them but knows Gretel probably told everyone to stay away so he could rest. 

Gretel nods quickly and pants harshly, her hands pressed against his shoulders as she continues to move. Her muscles and inner walls clench around Hansel again, getting more sporadic the more he rubs on that one spot.

A moment later, Gretel shouts. It’s more of a sharp cry and she makes a sobbing noise afterwards, her shoulders slumping. She tightens around Hansel once more, staying that way for a while before relaxing, muscles fluttering around him.

“Hansel,” she breathes, kissing him repeatedly, smiling against his lips as she continues to move against him. He’s getting closer and moves his hands up, cradling either side of Gretel’s face in his palms before kissing her roughly.

Now he fucks her in earnest; slamming his hips up as hard as he can, ignoring his protesting muscles, and feels the fire in his belly get worse and worse. Soon he’s coming, his hips stuttering forward and stilling against Gretel’s, his breath coming out in harsh pants against her mouth.

Both brother and sister slump against the wall; Gretel curls up against Hansel’s chest and he moves his fingers through her hair as they come down from their orgasms. When his cock softens, Gretel moves off and lays on the bed next to him, throwing a leg over his.

“How are you feeling?” Hansel asks quietly.

“Sore,” she replies, shrugging as she yawns, “and tired.”

Hansel grins and kisses the top of her head, nodding. “Sleep,” he says and pulls the blanket over both of them, letting Gretel curl up against his side. Much to Hansel’s surprise, he falls asleep soon after Gretel does and figures it’s because of the hunt earlier and from fucking his sister.

And in the morning, neither of them speak about it.

 


End file.
